


the loser gets the flowers

by babeyams (peachmonie)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachmonie/pseuds/babeyams
Summary: Tsukishima’s feelings built up slowly, like snowflakes falling gently on the ground. Every day, he found new things about Yamaguchi that made his heart race and the flowers on his lungs grow.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60
Collections: TsukkiYama Week 2020





	the loser gets the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> TsukkiYama Week 2020 — day 5: hanahaki

For the longest time, Tsukishima had hated people who treat love and feelings like some type of game. Because to him, love was a very serious matter, and it should be treated as such. Not that he’s ever said any of that out loud, and it’s not like he’s ever been in love either. Though he couldn’t help but  _ think _ about love whenever he saw him.

Whenever he laid eyes on Yamaguchi an idle question came to mind; What would it feel like to be in love with him? 

Tsukishima would never voice his thoughts. He’d never tell Yamaguchi how sometimes, when they walked home together, he would stop listening to whatever story Yamaguchi was telling, and instead he’d stare at his profile with a soft smile. He’d never admit that some nights, right before falling asleep, he would think that Yamaguchi and him were perfectly suited for each other. 

How would he react if Tsukishima said such things? Yamaguchi would probably make fun of him.

So he never did. He kept his—very embarrassing—thoughts to himself and tried to ignore that small voice always asking how Yamaguchi’s hands would feel between his own. 

Tsukishima’s feelings built up slowly, like snowflakes falling gently on the ground. And each day, he would notice something different. Something not necessarily new, but that he hadn’t been aware of before. 

Like the way Yamaguchi would lean into him whenever they sat together during lunch. Or how his eyes would light up when Tsukishima called his name.

All of this things hit Tsukishima one by one, until one day they punched him the face. 

He had just gotten home, and that evening he’d been thinking of the warm feeling that took over his chest whenever Yamaguchi yelled out the word “Tsukki!”

The house was empty, a note on the refrigerator telling him his mom was out running errands, and that dinner was in the oven. His legs and back sore from practice, Tsukishima yawned, deciding he’d take a much deserved shower first. 

Tsukishima was taking his shirt off when he felt it. A sudden tightness in his chest that made it hard for him to breathe. He bent over the sink, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. There was a soreness in his throat that made his eyes pool with tears, and that’s when he started coughing. So hard he thought his lungs were about to fly out. 

Blood came out instead. Blood and half a dozen yellow petals. 

Feeling like death had just paid him an early visit, Tsukishima gripped the sink, taking slow and unsteady breaths. He stared down at the stained porcelain in quiet horror. 

Daffodils. Tsukishima had coughed up bloodied daffodil petals. 

_**[...]** _

Tsukishima didn’t tell anyone. Which was most definitely an awfully bad idea. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He was still shaken up from it, and he was sure that if he tried to tell someone, all the words would die in his mouth. 

But from that day on, things only seemed to get harder. 

Because every time he looked at Yamaguchi, he could no longer feel warmth spreading throughout his body. Instead he felt a sharp pain that started at his chest and reached the tips of his fingers. It was especially painful when he would turn around and smile at him. That smile that was so wide his eyes would turn into half-moons and his nose would scrunch up adorably. 

Tsukishima went through a coughing fit again. 

He stopped walking and put his hands on his knees, coughing so much he couldn’t breathe. At the back of his mouth, he could taste the sweetness of his blood and feel the petals trying to get out. But he kept his mouth shut. 

He wouldn’t let Yamaguchi see.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi crouched next to him, grabbing his shoulder. “Are you okay?” The look of worry on his face hurt just a bit more than his chest.

Tsukishima swatted his hand away and straightened his back, still covering his mouth. He took a look at his hand; there he held two bloodstained petals. 

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi looked like he was starting to panic. “Are you sick? Do you want to sit down?” He came closer, but Tsukishima took a step back. 

“I’m fine.” His throat was sore. “Let’s go.” 

Yamaguchi didn’t seem convinced. He looked him up and down, frowning, and trying to see what was wrong with him. 

But what was happening inside of him was something Yamaguchi’s eyes would never be able to catch. 

_** [...] ** _

A few days later, as Tsukishima supported himself by pressing his hands to the wall, and as he spat dozens of petals out on the sink, he thought maybe he should tell someone about it. He coughed out blood until he felt like he was about to pass out, the pressure on his chest making it hard for air to get to his lungs.

He looked at his pale expression in the mirror and found tears flooding his cheeks.

It was as if Tsukishima’s body was slowly drying up. 

Outside the door, turning the corner, and down the hall, Yamaguchi waited for him so they could have lunch together. Tsukishima wanted more than anything to crawl out of the restroom and sit next to him. To hold his face and plead him to help get rid of his pain. 

Tsukishima wanted Yamaguchi. He wanted him so badly his heart clenched and his breath caught. 

_** [...] ** _

“Tsukki?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?” 

Tsukishima looked up from his notebook, finding Yamaguchi’s eyes on him. They were both at Tsukishima’s house, doing homework and chatting. 

“I’m fine.” He averted his gaze, Yamaguchi’s intensity making his skin crawl. 

“You’re pale.” Yamaguchi reached forward, trying to feel Tsukishima’s cheek. He flinched away. “Do you think your mom keeps anything for fevers? Should I go buy something?” 

“Yamaguchi,” He sighed, doing his best to hide how tired he felt. Tsukishima was sure he’d colapse any moment now, but Yamaguchi didn’t have to know. “Stop worrying so much, I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“ _Yes_. ”

Yamaguchi frowned a little, but ended up nodding. “If you’re fine then...” He scratched the back of his head, looking down at his own homework. “Could I tell you something?” 

Tsukishima’s heart sped up. His cheeks felt warm and his hands were sweating.

_ Keep it together.  _ He told himself, raising his shoulders and controlling his expression.

“Yeah, what is it?” 

“I think I like Yachi.” 

Tsukishima had never been stabbed before. But he was sure the sudden pain he felt on his chest was pretty close to what a knife cutting through his skin would feel like. 

He started coughing again, drops of blood flying out of his mouth and staining the once white pages of his notebook. His hands grabbing at his chest, trying to soothe the pain any way possible. 

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi was next to him in a second, holding his shoulder and staring and the mess of petals and small flowers coming out of him. “What...?” 

Tsukishima couldn’t speak. He wanted to tell him. Wanted to let go of everything he’d been holding on to for heaven knows how long. He just wanted to get  rid of it. He wanted Yamaguchi to ease all of his pain.

“Tsukki you...” Yamaguchi was crying, trying to find an answer on Tsukishima’s stained face. “You’re in love with someone.” He whispered. 

He coughed up another flower, this one significantly bigger than the rest, before he could breathe again. His body gave out, falling limply on Yamaguchi’s arms. 

“Yamaguchi-” Tsukishima’s voice raspy, every syllable spoken sending a wave of pain throughout body. 

“Don’t talk,” He cried, holding him close to him, trying to give some of his warmth to Tsukishima’s frozen body. “I’ll call someone, I’ll get you help, just hang in there Tsukki.” 

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima raised a weak hand, caressing his cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” 

The constellation of Yamaguchi’s freckles was all he could see, and the strength of his arms around him was all he could feel. As Tsukishima laid there, eyes slowly loosing their life, he tried to push all of his feelings into one phrase. Every single thought he’d ever had about Yamaguchi, he tried to let them all out in one short breath.

“I love you.”

Perhaps Tsukishima had been wrong all along. 

Love  _ is  _ a game. 

And the loser gets the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing hanahaki so i hope i didn’t do too bad and you guys enjoyed


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